PS 

635Z9 
nil348 
Copy 1 



F>RICE 15 CENTS 



MM 



AH Visitors Ashore 



^1 



Ward Macauley 




Successful Rural Plays 

A Strong List From Which to Select Your 
Next Play 

FARM FOLKS. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur 
LEWIS TuBBS. For five male and six female characters. ' Time 
of playing*; two hours and a half. One simple exterior, two 
easy interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Flora Goodwin, a 
farmer's daughter, is engaged to Philip Burleigh, a young New 
Yorker. Philip's mother wants him to marry a society woman, 
and by falsehoods makes Flora believe Philip does not love her. 
Dave Weston, who wants Flora himself, helps the deception by 
intercepting a letter from Philip to Flora, She agrees to marry 
Dave, but on the eve of their marriage Dave confesses, Philip 
learns the truth, and he and Flora are reunited. It is a simple 
plot, but full of speeches and situations that sway an audience 
alternately to tears and to laughter. Price, 25 cents. 

HOME TIES. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur 
Lewis Tubes. Characters, four male, five female. Plays two 
hours and a half. Scene, a simple interior — same for all four 
acts. Costumes, modern. One of the strongest plays Mr. Tubbs 
has written, Martin Winn's wife left him when his daughter 
Ruth was a baby. Harold Vincent, the nephew and adopted son 
of the man who has wronged Martin, makes love to Ruth Winn. 
She is also loved by Len Everett, a prosperous young farmer. 
When Martin discovers who Harold is, he orders him to leave 
Ruth. Harold, who does not love sincerely, yields. Ruth dis- 
covers she loves Len, but thinks she has lost him also. Then 
he comes back, and Ruth finds her happiness. Price 25 cents. 

THE OLD NEW HAMPSHIRE HOME. A New 

England Drama in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For seven 
males and four females. Time, two hours and a half. Costumes, 
modern. A play with a strong heart interest and pathos, yet rich 
in humor. Easy to act and very effective. A rural drama of 
the "Old Homstead" and "Way Down East" type. Two ex- 
terior scenes, one interior, all easy to set. Full of strong sit- 
uations and delightfully humorous passages. The kind of a play 
everybody understands and likes. Price, 25 cents. 

THE OLD DAIRY HOMESTEAD. A Rural Comedy 
in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For five males and four 
females. Time, two hours. Rural costumes. Scenes rural ex- 
terior and interior. An adventurer obtains a large sum of money 
from a farm house through the intimidation of the farmer's 
niece, whose husband he claims to be. Her escapes from the 
wiles of the villain and his female accomplice are both starting 
and novel. Price, 15 cents. 

A WHITE MOUNTAIN BOY. A Strong Melodrama in 
Five Acts, by Charles Townsend. For seven males and four 
females, and three supers. Time, two hours and twenty minutes. 
One exterior, three interiors. Costumes easy. The hero, a 
country lad, twice saves the life of a banker's daughter, which 
results in their betrothal. A scoundrelly clerk has the banker 
in his power, but the White Mountain boy finds a way to check- 
mate his schemes, saves the banker, and wins the girl. Price 
15 cents. 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



All Visitors Ashore 

An R?itertamment in One Scene 



By 
WARD MACAULEY 

Author of ''Examination Day at Woodhid School,' 

'*Lazy Bob Parkins,'' ''Old Home Day at 

Plunketty" etc. 




PHILADELPHIA 
THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1917 



4^U 



x 



d^V?'^^^ 



^ 



Copyright 19 17 by The Penn Publishing Company 



f^ 



,/-> 



All Visitors Ashore 



JAN 17 1918 

(?^CI.D 48733 



}u I 



All Visitors Ashore 



Joel Latham 
Mary Robinson 
Tony Ceuesco 
Jim Pulver 
Clara Lormond . 
Mr. T. Jefferson Smith 
Mrs. T, Jefferson Smith 
Dinah Washington 

loMMY 

Mr. Jones . 
Willie 
Mr. Jpson . 
Mrs. Finley . 
Fred Horton 
Walter Thomas 
Mr. Finker 
Willie Dearing 
Mrs. Willie Dearing 



CHARACTERS 

. a dilatory suitor 

a maid who fieeds help 

. an Italiaji i?nmiorafit 

. a boat official 

. n friend in need 

, an aristocratic gentleman 

his wife 

their colored servant 

a 7ieivsboy 

a dignified passe?iger 

his son 

who has business with Mr. Jones 

difficult to please 

the purser 

. the next ma?i iti line 



an insurance agent 
sure that no one will thifik they 
are Just married 

A clergyman^ street singers, passengers, wedding guests, 
visitors, bell-boys, boatmen and officers, wharf ha?idy a 
peanut man, etc. 



Time of Playing. — Forty-five minutes. 




STORY OF THE ENTERTAINMENT 



Mary Robinson and her friend, Clara Lormond, 
are off on a vacation trip. Mary's lover, Joel, will not 
propose. Clara is determined to make him pop the 
question. " He's had an option on you for five years, 
Mary. It's time for something to happen." Joel has 
promised to see the girls off. ** Oh, he's forgotten 
what time it is." Other passengers board the " Rorora." 
Here is a good opportunity to introduce musical spe- 
cialties, such as songs by a quartet, etc. Dinah " pre- 
cludes " not to embark until her life is insured. Willie 
Jones is persistent, and interrupts his father's business 
deal. " Pa, may I have that bag of peanuts, or are you 
going to risk ruining my health ? " Self-important 
Mrs. Egabroad Finley discovers that her stateroom 
does not exist, and gives the purser a piece of her 
mind. Mr. and Mrs. Willie Bearing are sure nobody 
suspects they have just been married. Joel arrives 
late and says good-bye to Mary. Clara : " Did he come 
across ? " " No — not exactly." Clara has a plan. 
Mary disappears and Clara and Joel board the boat to 
look for her. "All Visitors Ashore!" The gang- 
plank is cast off. Clara's plan has worked. "Joel, 
I've made you elope ! Let's find that minister." 



DIRECTIONS 



DIRECTIONS 



"All Visitors Ashore'' is a novelty entertainment 
and one of its most catchy features is the setting, 
which, however, is very easy, requiring no special 
scenery or effects of any sort. The stage represents 
the rear lower deck of the steamship " Rorora." No 
attempt to show any other part of the boat is necessary 
and as shown in the scene plot, only the most ordinary 
objects are required. The front of the auditorium 
represents the dock. It is advisable but not essential 
that this be raised two feet from the floor. A gang- 
way leads to the stage proper representing the deck of 
the boat. With a little ingenuity the scene may be 
given a very lifelike aspect. Persons pass from time 
to time up the gangplank. Care should be taken with 
the costumes so that these may be properly varied. 
Some may be funny and a good deal of comedy may 
be introduced by these silent actors, but the humorous 
characters should not predominate. The passengers 
form in line at the purser's office. Bell-boys escort 
them off left. A newsboy is busy selling his wares ; a 
peanut man is offering his merchandise. Their busi- 
ness may be introduced as side play when desired. 
By making suitable change of costume one person may 
readily represent several passengers. 

For instructions regarding staging, see scene plot. 

"All Visitors Ashore" is a sure hit because of its 
novel setting, which may be used in any ordinary hall 
with the use of properties easily obtainable. The va- 
rious characters may if desired make their first 
entrances from the rear of the auditorium, the aisle 
thus representing the street. A good deal of fun can 
be introduced in the talking between the passengers 
dov/n the " street " to the " wharf." 

Characters may be added or certain of them may be 
dropped to conform to the number of performers 
obtainable. 

If the entertainment is put on with plenty of snap, 
it is a sure go. 



COSTUMES, ETC. 



COSTUMES, ETC. 

Joel. About twenty-six. Summer business suit 
and straw hat. Rather slow and precise. 

Mary. A pretty girl of twenty-three. Summer 
dress and hat. Carries suit-case, umbrella, etc. 

Tony. Italian, not over thirty. Black curly hair, 
and earrings. Bright colored neckerchief and vest. 
Carries paper package. 

PuLVER. Middle-aged. Dark blue uniform and cap. 

Clara. About twenty-five. Summer dress and hat. 
Carries suit-case and other traveling outfit. Brisk and 
aggressive manner. 

Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Middle-aged. Summer 
traveling dress and outfit. 

Dinah. Forty to fifty. A typical colored 
" Mammy." Has some bright color in her clothing. 
Carries a bulging umbrella and a very large bundle 
done up in a quilt or some other bright-colored cloth. 

Mr. Jones. Thirty to forty. Wears summer busi- 
ness suit, straw hat, large eye-glasses, and carries 
suit-case. 

Willie Jones. About ten. Part may be taken by 
a man dressed ridiculously in boy's clothing too small 
for him, or ma}^ be taken by a boy. Knickerbockers, 
wide white collar, straw hat. 

Mr. Ipson. About forty. Business suit and straw 
hat. Carries no baggage. 

Mrs. Finley. About fifty. Very pompous and 
important. Summer clothing, hat, veil. Carries lor- 
gnette. May be followed everywhere, if desired, by 
man or maid servant piled high with baggage. 

Horton, the Purser. Uniform coat and cap. 
Only the upper part of his body shows at the window 
where he sells tickets. 

Mr. Thomas, Mr. Finker. May be of any age. 
Summer suits and straw hats. Mr, Thomas baseband 
baggage. 

Willie Dearing. Twenty-one. Many packages, 
bags, etc. Very nervous manner. Typical bride- 



8 PROPERTIES 

groom. Wears light overcoat over dark summer suit. 
The v^ords Just Married are chalked on his coat. 

Mrs. Bearing. About nineteen. Very typical 
bride, with new clothing, new bag, etc. Naturally 
rather nervous, but determined not to show it. 

Street Singers. Any appropriate costume. 

Passengers. These should be of all ages and both 
sexes. May dress in any way appropriate to their 
character. 

Visitors, Wedding Guests. Mostly young people. 
Summer costumes and very cheerful manner. Wed- 
ding guests wear or carry white flowers, and have 
confetti, white ribbons, old shoes, bags of rice, etc. 

Boat and Wharf Hands. Overalls and bare arms. 
Uniform caps if desired. 

Bell-boys. Usual tmiform of blue, with brass but- 
tons and round cap. 

Peanut Man. White apron and cap, or any ordi- 
nary, old suit. 



PROPERTIES 



For all passengers, including Mary, Clara, the 
Smiths, the Joneses, the Bearings, Mrs. Finley, 
Mr. Thomas, Clergyman, there should be suit- 
cases, bags, umbrellas, golf sticks, tennis rackets, and 
other traveling articles. For all passengers, also, 
money to buy tickets, newspapers, peanuts, and to 
throw to singers. 

For Binah. Large bundle done up in quilt or other 
bright-colored cloth. Large bulging umbrella. 

For Tony. Paper package, purse. 

For Purser. Money, tickets, keys. 

For Newsboy. Papers. 

For Peanut Man. Peanuts in bags, and also if 
desired, other goods, like candy and chewing gum, on a 
stand, or carried in a basket. 

For Mr. Jones. Newspaper, five cent piece. 

For Mrs. Finley. Lorgnette. 



SCENE PLOT g 

For Mary. Watch, purse, dollar bill. 
For Mr. Finker. Legal document. 
For Clara. Poster, with words, " Do it Now! " 
For Wedding Guests. Confetti, rice, old shoes, 
white ribbons, etc. 

For Wharf Hand. Large rope, with loop to throw 
over post. 



SCENE PLOT 




SCENE. — The excursion steamer " Rorora," and 
the wharf lO which she is tied. The upper (back) 
half of stage is raised a foot or two above lower 
(front) half. At front edge of the raised part, which 
represents the boat's deck, is a railing with a gate in 
the center, which may later be closed by putting a bar 
across. At rise of curtain this gate is open and a 
gangplank leads dow^n from the deck to the wharf. 
On upper stage, r., is the Purser's office, with a 
ticket window. On upper stage l. is a cabin, or deck 
house, and a stairway. Back drop may be plain white 
or light blue, or may be painted to shov\A farther rail of 
boat and scenery beyond. On upper stage r. are piled 
barrels and casks. On upper stage l. is a pile of bags, 
bundles, suit-cases, etc. On lower stage, l. and R., 
posts, with heavy rope to boat. On lower stage L. 
peanut stand. 



All Visitors Ashore 



SCENE. — Deck of the steamer " Rorora " and the 
dock (see Directions and Scene Plot). The boat is 
nearly ready to leave and passengers are coming 
from time to time. The deck and dock are scenes 
of animation zvith little groups saying farewell, 
chatting gayly, etc. The purser is at his window, 
R. u., PuLVER guarding the exit at l. u. Note: r. u. 
and L. u. refer to exits or entrances on Upper Stage, 
while R. and l. refer to Lower Stage. 

(Enter Mr. and Mrs. Smith, l., accompanied by 
Dinah, who carries large bundle and umbrella. 
Mr. Smith carries suit-case. As they approach the 
gangplank, Dinah takes a sudden fright.) 

Dinah {stopping suddenly c). No, sah, I'se pre- 
cluded not to get abohd dat dere boat. Gracious sakes 
to hipsy, Ah ain't gwine t' risk mah life to all dat ar 
water out dar. {IViih a sweep of the hand.) 

Mr. Smith (r. c, soothingly) . Now, Dinah. 

Dinah. Das all right, Misteh Smith, "Now, 
Dinah," but mah life's all Ah've got and Ah isn't gwine 
to go and get drownded. No, sir, not of a Wednesday, 
Ah ain't. 

Mr. Smith. But, Dinah, you promised. 

Dinah (c). Land's sakes, what of dat? A bad 
promise is better busted 'n kept. I heard yo' all say 
so yo'self. Anyways, what good is keeping my prom- 
ise goin' to do me when Ah's way down to de bottom 
of the sea? {She rolls her eyes mournfully.) 

Mr. Smith {putting down suit-case). Now, Dirlah, 

II 



12 ALL VISITORS ASHORE 

listen. Do you suppose for one instant I'd go on this 
boat myself if I thought there was any danger of our 
being drowned? 

Dinah {shaking her head). Taint danger, Mistah 
Smith, — it's possibility. This here {indicating herself) 
is all Ah've got an' I cain't afford to run no chances. 
S'posin' Ah was to lose it, where all am Ah going to 
get another one ? Answer me dat an' Ah'll get abohd 
the boat. Dat ar watah am way up over mah haid, or 
dat ar great big boat couldn't get into it. Y' cain't 
fool Dinah, not this here day. No, indeedy. 

{Folds her arms determinedly.) 

Mrs. Smith {going tozvard gangplank and speaking 
sharply). Dinah, stop that nonsense and come onto 
the boat at once. You are attracting attention to us. 

Dinah. Bettah 'tract 'tention 'live than not to have 
no one pay 'tention to you daid. Ah knows where Ah 
is now. (Mr. Smith takes Dinah by one arm and 
Mrs. Smith hy the other. They attempt to pvdl and 
push her up the gangway, and just succeed in getting 
her to the foot. She struggles.) Doan' you do dat! 
Doan' yo' 'tempt no kidnap stuff on me. If yo' goes 
for to do dat, Ah'll squeal. Dere ain't no law t' make 
me go get drownded without mah will and consent. 

Mr. Smith {at r. of gangplank, perspiring and mop- 
ping his face). Now, Dinah, be reasonable. 

Dinah {blocking gangzvay, from which she is finally 
pulled to L. by Mrs. Smith, in order to allow passen- 
gers to mount to the deck). Reas'able? 'Tain't 
reas'able t' ask me t' go get drownded. Ah had a 
dream last night; dream't 'bout a boy eatin' a Vv^hole 
pail o' peanuts one by one. Ah done look it up in mah 
dream book an' it sa3^s, " Look out for water," and dat 
ar dream book never failed me yet. Ah made three 
dollars playin' policy 'cause Ah done what it told me. 

Mrs. Smith (l. of gangplank). Jefferson, you go 
and secure our staterooms. I think I can convince 
Dinah. 

Dinah {positively). Yo' all doan' need to get no 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 1 3 

stateroom for me. Ah'se goin' to sleep in mah own 
back-yard this night. 

Mr. Smith (severely). Dinah, do you reaHze that 
this insubordination is likely to cost you your position? 

Dinah. Ah didn't do no subdordednation, Ah 
didn't. Anyways, I'd ruther get bounced 'n to get 
drownded. (Sits on bundle.) 

Mrs. Smith. Go on, Jefferson, leave Dinah to me. 

(Mr. Smith takes the suit-case, mounts gangplank R., 
and joins the line at the purser's office. Mrs. Smith 
converses earnestly with Dinah, who at intervals 
shakes her head emphatically.) 

{Enter newsboy l., calling as he comes.) 

Newsboy (l. ). 'Ere's where yer gets your paper, 
Speshul extry, just out. All about the big steamship 
wreck. Forty lives lost ! Extry ! 

{Goes up gangplank, and sells papers on boat.) 

Dinah {rising). There! Ah done tole you ! Forty 
lives lost ! Ah's glad Ah'm w^ise. 

Mrs. Saiith {disgustedly). How unfortunate ! 

Dinah {emphatically). Ah should say so, most 
misfortunate thing that could have happened to them 
forty pussons. Dry land's a good place, Ah'm thinkin'. 

Mrs. Smith. I meant how unfortunate that you 
should have heard that newsbov. 

Newsboy {walking about stage; shrilly). Extry — 
forty lives lost. Boat goes down. 

{Exit, R.) 

Dinah. It jest simply coinces mah 'pinion, das all. 
Nevah get me abohd no boat nohow. 

{She rushes off l., followed by Mrs. Smith, trying 
to detain her.) 

{Enter Tony Ceresco, r. He blithely carries his 
small package up the gangway and cheerfully sallies 
tozvard the exit leading to main deck, l. u. ) 

Tony {sniiling). Nice evening, meestaire. 



14 ALL VISITORS ASHORE 

PuLVER (l., gruffly). Let me see your stateroom 
ticket. 

Tony {bewildered). What you mean, stateroom? 
PuLVER. Ticket for a stateroom; come on, hurry 

Tony. I no got him. I pay man two feeity. He 
say you go to Winfield for tvv^o feefty. Nice evening, 
meestaire. Let me go t'ru, meestaire. I would see 
the beautiful sunset. {He attempts to pass.) 

PuLVER {grasping his arm roughly). If you haven't 
any stateroom ticket, you'll have to get out of here. 

Tony. But, meestaire, I no want what you call 
stateroom. I only would see the sunset, please, eet 
ees so beautiful, please, meestaire. 

PuLVER {sternly). Produce your ticket. 

Tony {gesticulating). I haf none. I cannot buy 
stateroom ticket. See, meestaire. {He opens his 
purse.) Fifty cents for to eat 

PuLVER {interrupting). I don't care how much 
money you've got. If you haven't a stateroom, I 
want you to get out of here before I help you. 

Tony {eagerly). Help me! Ah, meestaire, if you 
would help me find a job 

PuLVER {pushing hvni toward gangplank). Go on, 
get out of here. I've got my work to do. You belong 
down below. 

(Tony turns disconsolately tozvard the exit at r. u., 
explaining to a passenger as he leaves.) 

Tony. Meestaire man, he no let Tony see the sun- 
set, the beautiful sunset. {He disappears, r. u.) 

{Ejiter Mr. Jones and Willie, l.) 

Mr. Jones. Well, thank goodness we're here in 
time. 

Willie {rushing up to the Peanut Man). Oh, pa, 
I want some peantits. 

Mr. Jones (c). You can't have any, Willie. 

Willie (r. c). Aw, pa, why not? (Mr. Jones 
does not answer, but produces a paper and glances at 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 1 5 

the head-lines. Willie, insistent.) Oh, pa, say, why 
can't I have some peanuts ? 

Mr. Jones {severely). Nevermind. 

{He continues reading.) 

Willie. But, pa, my teacher said the v^ay to learn 
was to ask questions. 

Mr. Jones. If your teacher's right, WilHe, you'd 
know more than any man that ever hved. Now, keep 
still. I want to read about the battle of Verdun. 

Willie. Where's Verdun, pa? 

Mr. Jones {irritably). In Europe, of course. 

Willie. I heard it was in France. 

Mr. Jones. What did you ask me for, then? 

Willie. What part of France is it in, pa? 

Mr. Jones {doubtfully) . The war zone, of course. 

Willie. Does the paper tell who got licked, pa? 

Mr. Jones. No one got licked, Willie, but the 
French have captured eleven thousand German sol- 
diers. 

Willie. Only eleven thousand, pa? Gee, that 
newsboy's no good. One down on South Street was 
selling a paper all about seventeen thousand German 
soldiers captured. 

Mr. Jones. How do you think I can read this 
paper if you keep talking to me all the time? 

Willie. You'd ought to be more interested in me 
than in the paper, pa. {He pauses a moment.) Oh, 
I say, pa, please may I have some peanuts? 

Mr. Jones {sternly). No! I said no and when I 
say no, I mean no. {He turns to his paper.) 

Willie {plucking at his father's sleeve). Say, pa, 
what state has got two capitals? 

Mr. Jones {irritably) . I don't know. 

V\^iLLiE. New York, pa. 

Mr. Jones. It hasn't either. Albany is the capital 
of New York. 

Willie. I can't help that, pa. New York has got 
two capitals. 

Mr. Jones {exasperated). Well, what are they? 

Willie {giggling)- N. and Y. 



l6 ALL VISITORS ASHORE 

Mr. Jones {sternly). Willie, you stop your non- 
sense or I shall punish you severely. 

(Willie runs over to Peanut Man and hack to 

Mr. Jones.) 

Willie. Oh, please, pa, buy me a bag of peanuts, 
won't you? They're only a nickel. 
, Peanut Man. Verra good peanut, meestaire. 

Mr. Jones. No, no, no. We'll hear no more about 
that, Willie. 

V/illie. Say, pa, why don't we go on the boat? 

Mr. Jones. A man promised to meet me here at 
four o'clock. 

Willie. What was the man's name, pa ? 

Mr. Jones {impatiently). What possible difference 
does it make to you, young man ? His name is Ipson. 

Willie. Ipson? What a funny name, pa. Is he 
a nice man ? 

Mr. Jones {shortly). Not particularly. 

Willie. But, pa, what do you want to meet him 
for if he isn't a nice man? 

Mr. Jones {disgustedly). Business, business, you 
little numbskull, business. 

Willie. But, pa, if I were you, I'd do business 
with nice inen, pa. 

Mr. Jones {zvith exaggerated patience). Now, 
listen, Willie, once for all, let me explain that I must 
do business with people who want to do business with 
me. Can't you understand? 

Willie {pusded). But, papa dear, why do men 
that are not nice want to do business with you? 

Mr. Jones {zvalking about stage w/fA. Willie at his 
heels). I don't know, I don't know. You will have 
me a raving maniac with your fool questions. 

Willie. I wish to ask you a great favor, sir. 

Mr. Jones. What do you want now? 

AViLLiE. It would be a great favor to me, pa, if you 
would buy me a small bag of peanuts to eat on the 
boat. 

Mr. Jones. No, no, no ! Haven't I told you no a 
dozen times? 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE I7 

Willie. No, pa, only half a dozen. Why can't I 
have some peanuts? Teacher said parents should 
always tell the child the reason. 

Mr. Jones. They aren't good for you. 

Willie. But they are, pa. In my physiology and 
hygiene book it says that peanuts if well chewed are 
among the most nutritious foods. 

Mr. Jones. Anyway, you can't have any. You 
make me very tired, Willie. 

Willie. You want me to grow up to be a big, 
strong man, don't you, pa ? 

Mr. Jones. You know that as well as I do. 

Willie {reproachfully). Yet you would rather 
save five cents than buy me a bag of peanuts. 

Mr. Jones. When I say no, I mean no. 

Willie. Then Mrs. Snedeker was right, pa. I said 
she wasn't but I see she was. 

Mr. Jones. What did she say? 

Willie. She said you were stubborn. 

Mr. Jones. Willie, let me hear no more impudence. 
{Enter Mr. Ipson, r.) Ah, there is the man I'm 
waiting for. 

Willie. One last appeal. Pa, may I have that bag 
of peanuts or are you going to risk ruining my health? 

Mr. Jones (shortly). No. 

Willie. No to the first question or the last? 

Mr. Jones. No peanuts, Willie. 

(Mr. Jones turns, greets Mr. Ipson and the two talk 
earnestly, c. Mr. Ipson makes notes in a memo- 
randum book and nods occasionally. After a mo- 
ment, Willie pulls his father's coat tail.) 

Willie. Please, pa, may I have those peanuts? 
(Mr. Jones pushes him aside frowningly and resumes 
his conversation. Willie turns to the Peanut Man. 
Enter, r., majestically, Mrs. Finley. Surveys scene 
through lorgnette. She may be followed by man or 
maid servant, carrying a great deal of luggage and 
keeping close to her heels at all times. Mrs. Finley 



l8 ALL VISITORS ASHORE 

goes up gangplank and impatiently takes place in line 
at R. u. Willie, to Peanut Man.) Let me have a 
bag of peanuts, C. O. D., will you, mister? 

Peanut Man. C O. D. ? Sure. Pay when you 
get him, hey? {He starts to fill a hag.) 

Willie. No, I said C. O. D. You know, " call on 
dad." That's him. {Indicating Mr. Jones.) He'll 
have to pay you if I have eaten half the peanuts, 
won't he? 

Peanut Man {shaking his head). I sell him like 
you go on the street car, pay first. 

Willie {earnestly). Father, will you please lend 
me five cents ? 

Mr. Jones {furiously). No. 

Willie. Then will you oblige me by buying me a 
bag of peanuts? 

Mr. Jones {to Mr. Ipson). Excuse me a moment. 
{To W^illie.) I suppose Pve got to or you'll make 
me lose a good sale. {Putting hand in his pocket.) 
Here's your nickel. Now eat your peanuts and don't 
let me hear another word out of you. (Mr. Jones 
turns to Mr. Ipson. Willie triumphantly purchases 
a hag of peanuts and eats them contentedly. Mr. 
Jones hrings his argument with Mr. Ipson to a suc- 
cessfid conclusion. Mr. Ipson exits, l. Mr. Jones 
turns to Willie, self-satisfied.) Come on, son. I 
sold him a thousand dollars' worth, anyway. 

Willie. Pa, you always believe in my learning my 
Sunday-school lesson, don't you, pa ? 

Mr. Jones {wondering what is coming next). Cer- 
tainly, my dear boy. 

Willie. Last Sunday our teacher told us about a 
widow that wanted a judge to do something and he 
didn't want to, but she kept right on asking him until 
he got so tired listening to her that he did what she 
wanted. 

Mr. Jones. Well, what of it? 

Willie. Teacher says our lessons ought to do us 
some good in our daily lives, so I kept on asking 3^ou 
for peanuts and you didn't want to get them for me; 
but because I kept on asking, I got 'em. 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE I9 

Mr. Jones. Some time I'll give you something you 
don't want, without any asking. Come along, now. 

{They ascend the gangplank, c, and Mr. Jones takes 
his place in line, r. u. During the next few minutes, 
Willie can be seen asking numerous questions. The 
pair are then taken in charge by a bell-boy and 
exeunt, l. u.) 

Mrs. Finley {who has come to the head of the line 
at the Purser's window, r. u.). I can't help it whether 
the reservations are all gone or not. I want you to 
distinctly understand that I am Mrs. Egabroad Finley. 
My husband is the third vice president of the Eagle 
Plumbing Company and I want you to distinctly under- 
stand that I am going to have an entire stateroom on 
this boat, immediately. 

Purser. But the rules, my dear madame. 

Mrs. Finley. Don't " dear madame " me — and 
that for your rules. {She snaps her fingers scorn- 
fidly.) There must be any number of staterooms on 
this boat that have been reserved by people of abso- 
lutely no consequence. I want you distinctly to under- 
stand that, young man. 

Purser. Let me suggest that there are others in 
line waiting. If you will take a seat, I will see what 
can be done. 

AIrs. Finley. Don't you dare to suggest anything 
to me, young man. What do I care about who's wait- 
ing? I was in line first and I insist upon being 
^ attended to first. I want you distinctly to understand 
that, sir. 

Purser {conciliatingly). Perhaps some staterooms 
will not be called for. 

Mrs. Finley. That's it, young man ; here I am 
prepared to pay for a stateroom and you hold them for 
people w4io may never come. {Others in line are 
showing vehement impatience.) You won't wait on 
another soul until I get my stateroom. {Turning to 
hell-boy.) Bring me a camp-stool, boy. 

Purser {zvith a groan). Front, show this lady to 
number 479. 



20 ALL VISITORS ASHORE 

(Mrs. Finley triumphantly goes l. u., following the 

hoy who carries her sviit-case.) 

Mrs. Finley {at the exit, l. u.). I'm used to get- 
ting what I want, Mr. Purser. I want you distinctly 
to understand that, sir. 

{Exit.) 

Mr. Thomas {next in line). You ought not to have 
let the old bird put it over on you, Mr. Purser. 

Purser. That's all right, sir. There is no room 
479 on this boat. 

{Everybody in the line laughs heartily.) 

Mr. Ti-iomas {mockingly). And I want you dis- 
tinctly to understand that, sir. 

{Enter Mary Robinson and Clara Lormond, l., with 
suit- cases, which they set down r. c, and glance 
around as though waiting for some one.) 

Clara. Well, Mary, here you are off again on your 
summer vacation and going alone again, too. 

Mary {laughingly). Hardly alone, Clara, my dear, 
when I shall have your own sweet self along, to say 
nothing of a dozen girls I know down at Westbrook. 

Clara. Fiddle, Mary; I didn't mean absolutely 
alone. I meant — goodness gracious, you know very 
well what I meant. I meant that you weren't going 
with Joel Latham. 

Mary. Going with Joel Latham? Clara, you are 
getting positively scandalous. 

Clara {positively). It's time somebody was getting 
something. Joel Latham has had an option on you for 
five years, Mar}^ I should think it about time for 
something to happen. 

Mary. Joel is the dearest boy, but somehow he 
seems deathly afraid of me at times 

Clara. Keep it up after you are married. 

Mary {laughing). Not so easy to do. 

Clara. What do you mean, not so easy to do ? To 
get married? 

Mary. If you weren't such a jolly old pal, Clara, 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 21 

I wouldn't talk like this, but do you know I often have 
doubts that Joel will ever ask me. 

Clara. I'd let him know he'd reached his station, 
then. Why, Mary, Joel reminds me of a mule. Noth- 
ing but dynamite will ever move him. 

Mary (bantering). What kind of dynamite can 
make a man talk when he doesn't want to? 

Clara. If I wxre you, I'd send him packing. 

Mary (zvalking l.). Dear me, I never could do 
that. 

Clara (following her). Yes, you could, Mary. 
Listen to me. There are just as good fish in the sea 
as ever got the hook. Why, you could just as easy as 
not get some fellow with pep. 

Mary. Maybe, but 

Clara. But what? 

Mary. You see I love him. 

Clara. Then you might as well make up your mind 
to do something violent. Desperate cases demand 
desperate remedies. 

Mary. Give him a chance, Clara. 

Clara. I will, never fear. I'll give him all the 
chance in the world. I've made up my mind to write 
him an anonymous note, and tell him what I think 
of him.. 

Mary. Don't you dare. He'd think I had some- 
thing to do with it. (She glances at her watch.) I 
wonder what can be keeping him now. 

Clara. Oh, he's forgotten what time it is or what 
day it is or something. Why, Joel Latham is the most 
absent-minded man I ever saw. 

Mary. You are too severe on him, Clara. 

Clara. Listen, Mary dear, I wouldn't say a word 
against Joel Latham for anything in the world, but as 
a friend of yours I want to tell you that when you 
marry him — if 3^ou ever do — you are marrying a man 
to reform him. 

Mary. Don't talk th^t way, Clara. To hear you.' 
any one would think Joel was a confirmed drtmkard 
or something else terrible. 

Clara. Drinking isn't the only shortcoming a man 



22 ALL VISITORS ASHORE 

can have, Mary Robinson. Even in the dry counties 
the men are not all saints. 

Mary. Anyvi^ay, Clara, he is worth waiting for. 

Clara {loftily). They tell me that everything 
comes to him who waits. 

Mary. Him, not her, Clara. It refers to man. 

Clara. It's all the same. Man embraces woman. 

Mary {smiling). You ought to know. 

Clara {sharply). What do you mean by that re- 
mark, Mary Robinson ? 

Mary. They tell me experience is the best teacher. 

Clara {a hit flustered). You're changing the sub- 
ject, Mary. As I said, " everything comes to him who 
waits." When he doesn't get it, he can say that he 
hasn't waited long enough. That will be some con- 
solation for you when you're a toothless old lady still 
waiting for Joel Latham. 

Mary {with spirit). It's better to be waiting for 
Joel Latham than nobody. 

Clara {tossing her head). Oh, I've had my 
chances. 

Mary. Nothing came of them, anyway. Joel will 
speak when the proper time comes, Clara Lormond. 

Clara {scornfidly). The proper time? You take 
my advice and find some way to stir him up a bit. 
I'm warning you, as a friend. If you don't, I will. 

Mary {curiously). What are you going to do, 
Clara ? 

Clara. Never mind. I've conceived a brilliant 
idea, and if it doesn't bring Joel Latham to time, noth- 
ing will. 

Mary. Such talk is unmaidenly. 

Clara. Not in the little old U. S. A. The Amer- 
ican girl gets what she wants, or she know^s the reason 
why. 

(Wharf Hand sits on Dinah's bundle, c.) 

Mary. Be careful what you do, for my sake. 

Clara. I shall be most circumspect, mademoiselle, 
but believe me, I'm after results. {Looking about) 
Now, whatever do you suppose has become of that 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 



23 



man? Talk about women being late. The woman 
never lived who could equal Joel Latham. By the 
time he gets here the boat will be half-way to West- 
brook. 

Mary. It seems funny he should be so late. Let's 
get my stateroom key, anyway, and perhaps by that 
time he will be here. 

Clara. Perhaps with a big P. 

{They pick up suit-cases and climb the gangplank. A 
bell-boy assists them and they take their places in 
line, R. u. Dinah rushes in l., followed by Mrs. 
Smith.) 

DiNAPi. Ah done forgot mah bundle. Where is it ? 
Ah, here it is. {To Wharf Hand.) Young man, 
gimme mah bundle what's got mah trousseau in it. 

Wharf Hand. I ain't got your bundle. 

Dinah. You're a-sittin' on it. Dat's mah trous- 
seau. Git off. 

{She pushes him off and sits on bundle, c.) 

Mrs. Smith {at r. of gangplank). Now, Dinah, 
for the last time, are you or are you not coming aboard 
that boat ? 

Dinah {seated on bundles, of gangplank). 'Deed 
Ah is not, missus. Ah's got mo' sense. Doan' ketch 
me goin' gettin' drownded, while they's dry land lyin' 
'round doin' nothin', 'deed yo' doesn't. 

Mrs. Smith {hopelessly). There is no alternative, 
Dinah ; I shall be obliged to discharge you. 

Dinah. If Ah's got to get aboard dat dar boat, Ah 
discharges mahself. Ah kain get 'nuver job, but Ah 
cain't get 'nuver self if Ah done loses dis here one. 
Anyways, Ah kin get in de home for respect'ble colored 
women. 

(Mr. Smith, zvho has purchased stateroom tickets, 
descends the gangplank.) 

Mr. Smith. At last they've got us fixed up. Now, 
Dinah, I suppose you're through with all that nonsense. 
Dinah {firmly). 'Deed Ah is. 



24 ALL VISITORS ASHORE 

Mr. Smith. That's right. I knew you would. We 
might just as well get on now. 

Dinah. Ah'm all through any nonsense 'bout get- 
ting aboard dat 'ar boat 'n' get drownded. 

Mr. Smith {disgustedly). Leave her on the dock, 
Miranda, and come on. 

Dinah {defiantly). Go ahead. This dock am dry 
land, Mistah Smith. Ah never read about nobody 
gettin' drovv^ided on a dock. 

Mr. Smith. Leave her where she is, Miranda. 

Mrs. Smith {almost in tears). I can't do that, 
Jefferson. I'd rather give up the whole trip than lose 
Dinah. 

Mr. Smith {furiously). Put her into an asylum 
then, until we get home ! 

Dinah. Ah doan' go to no 'sylum. Ah's not done 
gone crazy. 

Mrs. Smith. Oh, Jefferson, there's your friend, 
Mr. Finker, the insurance man. 

{Enter Mr. Finker, l.) 

Mr. Finker {coming dozvn l.). Hello, Smith, you 
seem excited. A^Hiat's the matter ? 

Mr. Smith {crossing l. to meet Finker). This 
woman has got a fool idea into her head that the boat 
might sink and all of us be drowned. 

Newsboy {coming dozvn gangplank). Special ex- 
try, all about the big ship disaster, forty lives lost. 

Mr. Finker. It has happened. 

Mr. Smith {taking him down l.). You're a 
shrewd proposition, Finker. Can't you help me out? 

Mr. Finker. You say she's afraid she'll be 
drowned. Let me think. {He pauses a moment.) 
By George, I believe I have it. You leave her to me. 

{Mr. Smith crosses r. to Mrs. Smith and they 
ascend the gangplank and exeunt l. u. Mr. Finker 
engages Dinah in earnest conversation. During the 
next few minutes their discussion continues. At 
first, Dinah shakes her head em.phatically, hut later 
listens quietly. Mr. Finker exhibits a legal-looking 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 25 

document, zvhich he explains very carefully. Dinah 
is somewhat confused, but finally an illuminating 
smile spreads over her countenance and in the end 
she grins broadly and gives her assent, just as Mr. 
and Mrs. Smith reenter after Mrs. Finley's scene. 
The action up to iliac point is simidtaneous with Mr. 
Finker's inaudible conversation with Dinah.) 

Mrs. Finley {entering l. u. and talking excitedly 
to a passenger). I want you all distinctly to under- 
stand that this is disgraceful, outrageous, positively 
diabolical. (Puffing.) There that imp of a bell-boy 
has trotted me from one end of this boat to another 
and back again and everyv/here he says, " I don't seem 
to find Room 479." 

Passenger {helplessly). I can't help it, ma'am. 
Tell it to the purser. 

Mrs. Finley {zvith dignity). Don't be so im- 
pudent, young man. I want you distinctly to under- 
stand that Fm going to tell that purser a thing or two. 
Just let me get at him. 

(She pushes her zvay to the Purser's windozu, ignor- 
ing the waiting line.) 

Purser (sternly). Get in line, madame. 

Several Passengers (in the line). Hey, take your 
turn. 

Mrs. Finley. Fll not get in line, or anything of the 
kind, I want you distinctly to understand that. Fm 
going to report you to the company, young man. 

Purser (firmly). I told you, madame, that you 
would have to take your turn. You had no room re- 
served, and I had none to give you. But I have just 
received word that two rooms VvtU not be required. 
You may have one, if you want it. 

Mrs. Finley. Of course I want it. What do you 
suppose I am standing here for? You give me that 
key and be quick about it. Furthermore, I want you 
distinctly to understand that I am going to report you 
to the company, and I shall expect to see another 
purser on this boat when I take the trip back. 



26 ALL VISITORS ASHORE 

( The Purser gives her a key and, accompanied by the 
bell-boy, she goes l. u. again. Exit, l. u. Mr. and 
Mrs. Smith enter l. u. and descend the gangplank 
to see what fortune Mr. Finker has had with 
Dinah. They find Dinah radiant and ready 
to go.) 

Mr. Smith. You've changed your mind, have you, 
Dinah ? 

Dinah (happily). Yas, Mistah Smith, circum- 
stances done alter mah misconception of de prop'sition 
and Ah done decided to go 'long with yo' alls. Yo' 
see dis here gen'leman (indicating Finker) he done 
'sured mah life (she holds up the impressive looking 
document) and o' cou'se now Ah cain't get drownded. 
I 'vise yo' all to get yo' lives 'sured, too. Soon's he 
done tole me dat it was a policy. Ah done knowed it 
was all right. 

Mr. Finker (aside to Mr. Smith). This will cost 
you mone}^. Smith. 

(They all ascend the gangplank, Finker taking a place 
in line while the rest exeunt L. u.) 

(Enter Joel Latham, l. He is somewhat out of 
breath, as though from hurrying. He glances 
rapidly around.) 

Joel (crossing R. to Peanut Man). Have you 
seen two young ladies — one of them very pretty? 

Peanut Man (shrugging his shoidders). Ah, 
meestaire, I haf seen many young ladies. Pretty? I 
not know. Maybe. A bag of peanuts, meestaire? 

Joel (impatiently) . No, not now. 

Peanut Man. Only a nickel, meestaire, a big bag, 
see? 

(Joel turns away. Mary and Clara enter l. u., a7id 
■descend the gangplank. Joel advances to meet 
them. ) 

Clara (l., sarcastically) . Here at last, Joel? 
Joel (c). A self-evident fact, Miss Lormond. 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 27 

Mary (r.). We were afraid you had met an acci- 
dent, Joel. 

Clara. Yes, we were — not. I expected you would 
be late. 

Joel. I'm glad I fulfil all expectations. 

Clara. You don't though {she glances significantly 
at Mary, wJio gives her a zvarning look), but at being 
late, you are sure the champion. Well, I know how 
welcome a third party is. Watch me execute a pre- 
cipitate exit. 

{She turns with a comical movement and skips lightly 
up the gangplank and exits, l. u.) 

Joel (r. c). I'm awfully sorry, Mary. Just at 
the last moment I got held up. I hurried all the way, 
though, so that I could have a moment with you before 
you go. 

Mary (r.). I knew you would get here, Joel. 

Joel. It seems awfully hard to be saying good-bye, 
Mary. I shall be awfully lonesome. 

Mary. I'll miss you, too, Joel. 

Joel. You know, Mary, you and I have been 
friends for a long time. 

Mary. Yes, indeed, we have, Joel. 

(Mary is expectant, Joel very ill at ease.) 

Joel (apparently trying to speak on an important 
subject, hut changing his mind). You are going up to 
Westbrook again? 

Mary. Now, Joel, you know very well that I am 
going to Westbrook. I gave you the address on a slip 
of paper last night and you promised to write me often. 

Joel (confused). That's so. I don't see how I 
could ever have forgotten it. Do you expect Edna 
Tompkins again ? 

Mary (half -laughing) . I do, the sam.e as I did last 
night, and Ellen Pickner and Jane Smith and all the 
rest. I am afraid, Joel, that you are getting absent- 
minded. 

Joel (plucking up courage). You know what 
makes me absent-minded, Mary. 



28 ALL VISITORS ASHORE 

Mary {archly). I do? 

Joel. Why, certainly you do. 

Mary. Well — what is it? Business? 

Joel. You know it isn't business. It's the way 
I Oh, well, if you don't know, I can't tell you. 

Mary {confused). I think I'd better be going 
aboard the boat, Joel. It leaves in a little while. 

Joel. I hate to see it go. 

Mary. Why, Joel? It leaves every night at five 
o'clock. 

Joel {much embarrassed). I know^ — but to-night 
is different from any other night. 

Mary {prosaically). I imagine they are all about 
the same, Joel, except the weather. 

Joel. No, you don't go every night. 

Mary {bantering). I should say not. I'd have to 
use some of the nights to come back. 

Joel {squelched). Is there anything I can do for 
you before you go? 

Mary. You might get in line and buy me a dinner 
ticket. {Opening her purse.) Here is the dollar. 

Joel. Let me pay for it. {He refuses the dollar.) 

Mary. You take this money, or I won't let you buy 
the ticket. 

{He accepts the bill reluctantly, ascends the gangplank 
and takes his place in the line, r. u. Clara enters 
L. u. and hops down the gangplank to Mary.) 

Clara (l. c, excitedly) . Did he come across? 

Mary (c). No, not exactly. 

Clara {disgusted). Not exactly, Mary Robinson! 
What do you mean, not exactly? Either a man pro- 
poses or else he doesn't. 

Mary {coolly). I wish you wouldn't be so flippant, 
Clara. 

Clara. You mean flip, Mary, merely flip, so you 
might as well say so. But I'm doing it for your own 
good. Now {taking Mary's arm) I w^ant you to run 
along rapidly to your stateroom for a moment. 

Mary {holding hack). What for? 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 



29 



Clara (impatiently). Because I say so, that's 
what for. 

Mary (doubtfully), I never know what to expect 
from you, Clara. 

Clara. Never fear ; I won't incriminate you. Now 
run along. 

Mary. I don't think I ought to 

Clara. Oh, run along, jusi a moment. Hurry up. 

Mary. My friendship, but not my judgment con- 
sents, as Shakespeare didn't say. 

Clara (c. ). I don't care a snap what consents if 
you will only get out of here. So quote that good old 
song — " So long, Mary." 

(Mary walks hesitatingly away, l. u., looking back as 
she goes, as though doubtful what Clara may be up 
to. She finally exits up stairway, l. u. After a 
moment Joel secures the ticket and comes down the 
gangplank expecting to find Mary. Clara conies 
down R. c. ) 

Joel (dozun c). Hello, Clara, where has Mary 
gone? 

Clara (r. c). Never mind where she has gone. 
You listen to me with both ears. How much longer 
are you going to fool about this matter ? 

Joel (uncomfortable). Why, I 

Clara (sharply). That's the trouble with you, Joel 
Latham. There's altogether too much of this " wxll, 
I " about you. Why don't you speak right out for 
once in your life? 

Joel. Does Mary know you are asking me this ? 

Clara. Goodness, no. She'd tear my hair out in 
handfuls. But I made up my mind to take a hand. I 
love you both — oh, don't worry, only as a sister, sir — 
and I hate to see you waste time. Now, Joel, to speak 
freely, do you want to lose Mary? 

Joel. You know very well, Clara, that I couldn't 
live without her. 

Clara (dryly). I think you'd survive, at that. 
The point is that you think you w^ouldn't. Why not 
up and tell her wdiat you just told me? 



30 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 



Joel (bravely). I intend to. 

Clara. Intend to? Hear the man talk. When? 
I ask you, when? Life is short and love is procrasti- 
nating. In the language of the poet, Joel, get busy. 

Joel. I will, Clara. Thank you for telling me. I 
will, just as soon as she gets back from her vacation. 

Clara (in despair). Vvhen she gets back? There 
you go again. Here's a motto I brought along pur- 
posely for you. 

(She unrolls poster in large letters, ''Do It Now.") 

Joel. I can't do it to-day, Clara. I simply can't. 

Clara (yawning) . You consume me with fatigue, 
Joel. You don't deserve Mary. 

Joel. Do you think she'd say yes? 

Clara. Ask h^r, not me. Remember, Joel, that 
faint heart never brought home the bacon. Now, 
there's a good boy. 

Joel. I almost think I will ask her. 

Clara (disgusted) . Almost! Gracious, man alive, 
almost didn't get Washington over the Delaware. I 
can tell you this, Joel Latham, if 3^ou had been paying 
attention to me for four years or so, you'd have toed 
the mark long ago. Listen, Joel, proposing is just like 
a cold bath — better plunge right in. The more you 
hesitate, the more afraid you get. 

Joel (with a sudden inspiration). I tell you what 
I'll do. I'll write her a letter just as soon as I get 
home to-night. 

Clara (firmly). I'm disgusted v^^ith you, Joel 
Latham. You are head over heels in love with Mary, 
a.nd yet you let her go away alone this summer again. 
I'm downright ashamed of you. (A man in clergy- 
man's costume enters l. and goes on boat, takes place 
in line, etc. Clara looks after him, then looks at Joel, 
then at the clergyman, then at Joel again.) I see right 
now that nothing but desperate measures will ever save 
you. 

Joel. You are an awfully good sort, anyway, Clara. 

Clara (sniffing). What good does beins: a good 
sort do me or Mary either? Come along, we'll have to 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 3 1 

hunt her up. She doesn't seem to intend to come back 
here. 

{They ascend the gangplank and reach the stair- 

zvay, L. u. ) 

PuLVER. Ticket, please. 

Joel. I'm just here to see two young ladies off. 
PuLVER (gruffly). Don't forget the boat leaves in 
a few minutes. 

(Joel and Clara exeunt l. u. Mr. and Mrs. Willie 
Bearing enter, r., arm in arm.) 

Bearing {down^.). Thank goodness, sweetiebird, 
w^e have escaped them. 

Mrs. Bearing {clinging to his arm). But have we? 
Have we, dearest lovieboy ? 

Bearing. Fm sure we have. I was much too 
shrewd for them. They never thought of the pantry 
window, honey-tot. Your buggy-boogy boy was too 
much for them. I don't believe you realize what a 
wise little hubby chap you've got. 

Mrs. Bearing {pressing his arm affectionately). I 
do, too. He's the sweetiest, smartest, loveliest, 'ittle 
'ootsie boy in all the world. 

Bearing {looking around anxiously). Bo you 
think anybody would know ? 

Mrs. Bearing. Know what, luscious ? 

Bearing. You know — about us, dearliest. 

Mrs. Bearing {positively). Why, no, they could 
never guess it. Plow could they ? Pve watched Uncle 
Edward and Aunt Jean for a week, and I know we act 
just like they do and they've been married fifteen years. 

Bearing. It seems pretty warm, preciousest. I 
think I'll take off my coat before we go on the boat. 

Mrs. Bearing. Are you sure sweetieboy won't 
take cold ? 

(Bearing removes his light overcoat and turns his 
back to the audience, revealing these words in chalk, 
"Just Married") 



32 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 



Dearing. I flatter myself that I carry the air of an 
old married man. 

Mrs. Bearing. Mustn't be too biggy much of a 
old bear of a married man. 

Bearing. A^nyway, angei eyes, no one will ever 
dream that \yq are fresh from the altar. 

Mrs. Bearing. What did that nasty Mr. Jenkins 
mean by asking if you were a good dodger? 

Bearing. Just his vulgar talk, loveliest. You 
knov/, scrubbing brushes, flatirons and things. 

Mrs. Bearing {puzzled). But I don't understand, 
dear. 

Bearing. You know, dodging 'em, when your wife 
throws 'em. It has been done. 

Mrs. Bearing {indignantly). Just imagine; why, 
I wouldn't throw anything at my lovieboy. It might 
hurt his precious 'ittle face. 

Bearing. Not if you threw it at me, my dear. But 
come {taking her arm), we must be getting on the 
boat. There isn't any time left for nonsense. 

Mrs. Bearing {tearfully). Nonsense? Why, Wil- 
lie, do you call talking love to me nonsense ? 

Bearing. Of course not, honey- jumble. 

Mrs. Bearing. But you said so. 

Bearing. I did not say so. 

Mrs. Bearing {even more tearfully). And now 
you are quarreling with me ; and you said you'd never, 
never quarrel v\nth me so long as we both shall live. 

Bearing. I am not quarreling with you, petsicum. 

Mrs. Bearing {smiling through her tears). Never 
mind, lovieboy ; when we get on the boat, we can kiss 
and make up, can't we ? 

{As they move toward gangplank, a large party of 
young men and young women rush in r. and fling 
themselves upon the bride and groom, showering 
then^ with rice and confetti.) 

Voices. Oh, here they are ! We knew we'd catch 
you! Smart, weren't you? {etc.) 

{In much confusion Mr. a-dd Mrs. Bearing make their 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 33 

escape up gangplank and to l. u. The wedding 
guests follow, laughing.) 

PuLVER {gruffly). Tickets. 

Dearing. Oh, my goodness. Wait here, sweetest. 

{He rushes r. u. to take his place in line, while Mrs. 
Bearing stands l. u. and waits. Mary conies down 
stairway, l. u., and down gangplank, evidently look- 
ing for Joel. After looking around goes up gang- 
plank and exit, l. u. Bearing secures his tickets^ 
and he and his bride exeunt, l. u., closely followed 
by the wedding guests, who are shouting in chorus: 
" They were married to-day; they were married to- 
day.'' Mary again enters l. u., and, in an agitated 
manner, looks for Joel and Clara.) 

(Enter a group of Street Singers from the audito- 
rium, or from l. The passengers gather around the 
deck to listen to them. Nothing is seen of Joel or 
Clara, however, and Mary has disappeared in a 
frantic search for them. The Street Singers give 
a ten minute e^ttertainment for the benefit of the 
passengers, who throzv coins to them from time to 
time. The concert may include quartet work and 
also comic solo selections. Willie Jones, on deck 
of boat c, is a prominent listener and is asking his 
father many questions in regard to the singers. Mr, 
Jones is impatient, Willie insistent.) 

Willie {on deck at l., during a pause betzveen num- 
bers). Say, pa, can I take music lessons? I think it'd 
be great to be a singer Hke that tall man. 

Mr. Jones (l. c). No, you cannot. You are go* 
ing to work at the office with me. 

Willie. But, papa, you have no right to ciiish my 
asp'rations. 

Mr. Jones. Willie, keep still. They are going to 
sing again. 
(At the conclusion of the song, Willie begins again. 

During his speech, Mary runs frantically in, l. u., in 

search of the missing Joel and Clara. Failing to 

find them, she rushes out l. u. again.) 



24 ALL VISITORS ASHORE 

Willie (l.). If I'm a great musician, pa, you 
oughtn't to make me a business man. 

Mr. Jones (l. c). No danger of your being a 
great musician, Willie. 

Willie (persistent). But, pa, you can't be sure 
unless I take lessons and see what I can do. Some- 
thing inside me tells me that I can sing. 

Mr. Jones. Can't you keep still a mo'ment, Willie ? 

Willie. But just think, papa, maybe your son 
might be a great singer like Caruso and you and 
mother 'd come and hear me sing at the Metropolitan 
Opera House 'n' I'd get paid a thousand dollars a song. 

Mr. Jones. You'll do well to earn a thousand dol- 
lars a year, young man. 

Willie. But do you really think, father, that you 
have the right to risk not giving me a chance when I 
might be as good as Caruso ? Mr. Caruso's papa might 
have said what you are saying and then see what he 
would have lost. 

Mr. Jones. Well, come along. (They exeunt, l. u.) 

( The Street Singers are making their exit l., and the 
passengers are dispersing. A boat officer appears on 
the deck from r. u., shoiUing, " All visitors ashore. 
Boat leaves in two minutes. All visitors ashore.'^ 
There is a scampering of numerous visitors, hut Joel 
and Clara do not appear. Mary enters hurriedly, 
l. u., and not seeing them rushes off R. Enter 
Dinah l. u. at the railing and speaks to a passenger.) 

Dinah. Dis here am suah a pow'ful boat. But 
Ah'se glad Ah done got mah life 'suhed. Safety first 
fo' yo' old Aunt Dinah. 

(The wharf hands untie the rope attaching the boat 
to the dock; the deck hands haid in the gangplank 
and close the gate. There is a waving of handker- 
chiefs, the boat whistles and is supposed to be leav- 
ing the dock. Joel enters from main deck l. u. and 
rushes excitedly to the side of the boat, closely 
followed by Clara, who is holding him tightly by 



ALL VISITORS ASHORE 



35 



the coat. He springs to the side of the boat, hut 
Clara holds him. Mary rushes in r.) 

Joel. Stop the boat ! Let me off ! 

Clara (l. c.)- No, you don't, young man; yoti 
don't go jumping into the water now that I've got you 
where I want you. 

Joel ( c. ) . Where you want me ? 

Clara (l. c). Yes, slow-poke, I've made you 
elope with Mary. That's what I've done. Now, I'll 
go and hunt up that minister I saw. 

Joel (slowly smiling). Say, that's — that's a great 
idea. Will you, Mary ? 

Mary (r. c). I'll never, never 

Clara. Yes, you will, see if you don't. Come on, 
Joel, help me find the minister. 

{She grasps his arm enthusiastic ally and pidls him 
toward l. u. as the curtain falls.) 



Unusually Good Entertainments 

Read One or More of These Before Deciding on 
Your Next Program 

GRADUATION DAY AT 'WOOD HILIi SCHOOL. 

An Entertainment in Two Acts, by Ward Macauley. For six 
males and four females, with several minor parts. Time of 
playing, two hours. Modern costumes. Simple interior scenes; 
may be presented in a hall without scenery. The unusual com- 
' bination of a real "entertainment," including music, recitations, 
etc., with an interesting love story. The graduation exercises 
include short speeches, recitations, songs, funny interruptions,' 
and a comical speech by a country school trustee. Price, 15 
cents. 

EXAMINATION DAY AT WOOD HILL SCHOOL. 

An Entertainment in One Act, by Ward Macauley. Eight mal* 
and six female characters, with minor parts. Plays one hour. 
Scene, an easy interior, or may be given without scenery. Cos- 
tumes, modern. Miss Marks, the teacher, refuses to marry a 
trustee, who threatens to discharge her. The examination in- 
cludes recitations and songs, and brings out many funny answers 
to questions. At the close Robert Coleman, an old lover, claims 
the teacher. Very easy and very effective. Price, 15 cents. 

BACK TO THE COUNTRjt STORE. A Rural Enter- 
tainment in Three Acts, by Ward Macauley. For four male 
and five female cnaracters, with some supers. Time, two hours. 
Two scenes, both easy interiors. Can be played effectively with- 
out scenery. Costumes, modern. All the principal parts are 
sure hits. Quigley Higginbotham, known as "Quig," a clerk in 
a country store, aspires to be a great at;thor or singer and 
decides to try his fortunes in New York. The last scene is in 
Quig's home. He returns a failure but is offered a partnership 
in the country store. He pops the question in the midst of a 
surprise party given in his honor. Easy to do and very funny. 
Price, 15 cents. 

THE DISTRICT CONVENTION. A Farcical Sketch 
in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For eleven males and one 
female, or twelve males. Any number of other parts or super- 
numeraries may be added. Plays forty-five minutes. No special 
iscenery is required, and the costumes and properties are all 
easy. The play shows an uproarious political nominating con- 
vention. The climax comes when a woman's rights cham- 
pion, captures the convention. There is a great chance to bur- 
lesque modern politics and to work in local gags. Every 
part will make a hit. Price, 15 cents. 

SI SLOCUM'S COUNTRY STORE. An Entertainment 
in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eleven male and five female 
characters with supernumeraries. Several parts may be doubled. 
Plays one hour. Interior scene, or may be played without set 
scenery. Costumes, modern. The rehearsal for ara entertain- 
ment in the village church gives plenty of opportunity for 
specialty work. A very jolly entertainment of the sort adapted 
to almost any place or occasion. Price, 15 cents. 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



Unusually Good Entertainments 

Read One or More of These Before Deciding on 
Your Next Program 

A SURPRISE PARTY AT BRINKLEY'S. An En- 
tertainment in One Scene, by Ward Macauley. Seven male and 
seven female characters. Interior scene, or may be given with- 
out scenery. Costumes, modern. Time, one hour. By the 
author of the popular successes, ''Graduation Day at Wood Hill 
School," "Back to the Country Store," etc. The villagers have 
planned a birthday surprise party for Mary^ Brinkley, recently) 
graduated from college. They all join in jolly games, songs, 
conundrums, etc., and Mary becomes engaged, which surprises 
the surprisers. The entertainment is a sure success. Price, 15 centSv 

JONES VS. JINKS. A Mock Trial in One Act, by 
Edward Mumford. Fifteen male and six female characters, with 
supernumeraries if desired. May be played all male. Many of the 
parts (members of the jury, etc.) are small. Scene, a simple 
interior ; may be played without scenery. Costumes, modern. 
Time of playing, one hour. This mock trial has many novel 
features, unusual characters and quick action. Nearly every 
character has a funny entrance and laughable lines. There are 
many rich parts, and fast fun throughout. Pri'^e, IS cents. 

THE SIGHT-SEEING CAR. A Comed> Sketch in One 
Act, by Ernest M. Gould. For seven males, t a'o females, or 
may be all male. Parts may be doubled, with quick changes, so 
that four persons may play the sketch. Time, forty-five minutes. 
. Simple street scene. Costumes, modern. The superintendent 
of a sight-seeing automobile engages two men to run the 
machine. A Jew, a farmer, a fat lady and other humorous 
characters give them all kinds of trouble. This is a regular gat- 
ling-gun stream of rollicking repartee. Price, 15 cents. 

THE CASE OF SMYTHE VS. SMITH. An Original 
Mock Trial in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eighteen males 
and two females, or may be all male. Plays about one hour. 
Scene, a county courtroom ; requires no scenery ; may be played 
in an ordinary hall. Costumes, modern. This entertainment is 
nearly perfect of its kind, and a sure success. It can be easily 
produced in any place or on any occasion, and provides almost 
any number of good parts. Price, 15 cents. 

THE OLD MAIDS' ASSOCIATION. A Farcical Enter- 
tainment in One Act, by Louise Latham Wilson. For thirteen 
females and one male. The male part may be played by a 
female, and the number of characters increased to twenty -or 
more. Time, forty minutes. The play requires neither scenery 
nor properties, and very little in the way of costumes. Can 
easily be prepared in one or two rehearsals. Price, 25 cents. 

BARGAIN DAY AT BLOOMSTEIN'S. A Farcical 
Entertainment in One Act, by Edward Mumford. For five males 
and ten females, with supers. Interior scene. Costumes, mod^- 
ern. Time, thirty minutes. The characters and the situations 
which arise from their endeavors to buy and sell make rapid-fire 
fun from start to finish. Price, 15 cents. 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



Successful Plays for All Girls 

In Selecting Your Next Play Do Not Overlook This List 

YOUNG DOCTOR DEVINE. A Farce in Two Acts, 
by Mrs. E. J. H. Goodfellow. One of the most popular 
plays for girls. For nine female characters. Time in 
playing, thirty minutes. Scenery, ordinary interior. Mod- 
ern costumes. Girls in a boarding-school, learning that a 
young doctor is coming to vaccinate all the pupils, eagerly con- 
sult each other as to the manner of fascinating the physician. 
When the doctor appears upon the scene the pupils discover that 
the physician is a female practitioner. Price, 15 cents. 

SISTER MASONS. A Burlesque in One Act, by Frank 
DuMONT. For eleven females. Time, thirty minutes. Costumes, 
fantastic gowns, or dominoes. Scene, interior. A grand expose 
of Masonry. Some women profess to learn the secrets of a 
Masonic lodge by hearing their husbands talk in their sleep, 
and they institute a similar organization. Price, 15 cents. 

A COMMANDING POSITION. A Farcical Enter- 
tainment, by Amelia San ford. For seven female char- 
acters and ten or more other ladies and children. Time, one 
hour. Costumes, modern. Scenes, easy interiors and one street 
scene. Marian Young gets tired living with her aunt, Miss 
Skinflint. She decides to "attain a commanding position." 
Marian tries hospital nursing, college settlement work and 
school teaching, but decides to go back to housework. Price, 15 
cents. 

HOW A WOMAN KEEPS A SECRET. A Comedy 
in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For ten female characters. 
Time, half an hour. Scene, an easy interior. Costumes, modern. 
Mabel Sweetly has just become engaged to Harold, but it's "the 
deepest kind of a secret." Before announcing it they mvist win 
the approval of Harold's uncle, now in Europe, or lose a possible 
ten thousand a year. At a tea Mabel meets her dearest friend. 
Maude sees Mabel has a secret, she coaxes and Mabel tells her. 
But Maude lets out the secret in a few minutes to another 
friend and so the secret travels. Price, IS cents. 

THE OXFORD AFFAIR. A Comedy in Three Acts, 
by Josephine H. Cobb and Jennie E. Paine. For eight female 
characters. Plays one hour and three-quarters. Scenes, inter- 
iors at a seaside hotel. Costumes, modern. The action of the 
play is located at a summer resort. Alice Graham, in order to 
chaperon herself, poses as a widow, and Miss Oxford first claims 
her as a sister-in-law, then denounces her. The onerous duties 
of Miss Oxford, who attempts to serve as chaperon to Miss 
Howe and Miss Ashton in the face of many obstacles, furnish 
an evening of rare enjoyment. Price 15 cents. 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



The Power of E: 



017 400 249 6 



Expression and efficiency go hand in haii 

The power of clear and forceful expression brings confi- 
dence and poise at all times — in private gatherings, in public 
discussion, in society, in business. 

It is an invaluable asset to any man or woman. It can often 
be turned into money, but it is always a real joy. 

In learning to express thought, we learn to command 
thought itself, and thought is power. You can have this 
power if you will. 

Whoever has the power of clear expression is always sure 
of himself. 

The power of expression leads to: 

The ability to think "on your feet" 

Successful public speaking 

Effective recitals 

The mastery over other minds 

Social prominence 

Business success 

Efficiency in any undertaking 

Are these things worth while? 

They are all successfully taught at The National School of 
Elocution and Oratory, which during many years has de= 
veloped this power in hundreds of men and women. 

A catalogue giving full information as to how any of these 
accomplishments may be attained will be sent free on request. 

THE NATIONAL SCHOOL OF 
ELOCUTION AND ORATORY 

Parkway Building Philadelphia 



